You Have a Match(74)

The words puncture past her frustration, then past something deeper than that. She sighs, then settles down next to me, leaning in and resting her head on my shoulder. I rest mine on top of hers, and the two of us take a long breath and make some quiet forgiveness.

“I guess if I’m gonna be stuck down here, it’s nice to have company.”

For a few moments there is this weird, completely inappropriate relief, considering how screwed we are. Our well-being may be in semidanger, but this, at least, isn’t. Whatever this is, it’s solid now. Not enough to have a name, maybe, but enough to withstand a storm.

We both stare up at the little ledge that brought us down.

“You’re sure there’s no way out of here?”

“Trust me, I’ve tried. I also just considered standing on your shoulders and abandoning you long enough to cram some food in my face and get help, but that’s a no-go, too.”

“I’m touched.”

Savvy’s eyes close. “I would commit a felony for an egg sandwich right now.”

“You know, you are not the first person whose rescue mission I have phenomenally messed up in the last twelve hours.”

“Oh yeah?” Savvy asks, raising her eyebrows. “What did I miss?”

I hold up my wrist. Savvy hisses.

“Not to story top or anything,” I say, resting it back down at my side.

“Uh, yeah, come talk to me when you’ve spent the whole night in a ditch and nobody notices you’re gone.”

I knock my shoulder with hers. “To be fair … a lot of drama has gone down since then. This place is basically the set of a reality show.”

Savvy snorts. It’s the most graceless sound I’ve ever heard her make. I love everything about it. “You’re telling me.”

“Mickey said that Jo called.”

Savvy turns to me abruptly. This close I can see there isn’t only crusted mud in her hair, but actual leaves and twigs. She looks like that time our school put on a production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream and the theater kids got a little too method about their costumes.

“Mickey heard that?”

“Heard what?”

“Me breaking up with Jo.”

My eyebrows lift. “You broke up with Jo?”

“How much did Mickey hear?” Savvy demands, way more paranoid than someone whose problems include being trapped in a muddy ditch without a way to contact the outside world should be.

I shrug. “I mean, I’m guessing not much. She said you took the call and she was in some kind of mood and made Rufus cuddle with her or something, so…”

“Jesus.” Savvy hikes her knees up and rests her forehead on them, streaking herself with mud. It’s unfortunate that I’ve never noticed our resemblance more than in this instant. “I’m making a mess out of everything.”

“Okay, this time I definitely get to story top you, considering I told my own parents to fuck off.” I kick at the mud with the heels of my shoes, making little mud piles in front of me. “So … what happened with Jo?”

Savvy groans. “I broke up with her and the universe immediately punished me by plummeting me into a muddy ditch and giving me a sister who doesn’t answer the one call I’m able to make before my phone turns into a glorified brick.”

My ears don’t perk at the word sister the way they normally would. For the first time, it doesn’t feel weird. Maybe it’s hearing it like this, mid-rant with a tinge of annoyance, that finally makes it fit—she throws out the word sister the way I throw out the word brother, with the carelessness of someone who’s allowed to be careless because they know that sister or brother isn’t going anywhere.

“Why would the universe be punishing you? I mean … I don’t know Jo or anything. But it kinda seemed like it wasn’t a match made in teenage heaven.”

“I mean, yeah,” she admits. “It wasn’t working.”

I approach the topic with caution. “Too busy to keep up with each other?”

“No—well, yeah.” The defensiveness leaks out of her, and she adds, “But if I’m being honest … that’s probably why we lasted so long in the first place.”

“Ah, yes. It was … what was that incredibly romantic word you used? Convenient.”

“Also, she was … she didn’t want me hanging out with Mickey so much.” Savvy’s expression is wry. “She was sure Mickey had an agenda, which is dumb, obviously. Mickey was dating that girl for years. If she’d had an agenda, I’d have known by now.”

If Savvy’s bad attempt at hedging around it hadn’t already confirmed that she is still harboring at least some feelings for Mickey, referring to her ex of several years as “that girl” sure does.

“Anyway, that was always going to be nonnegotiable. Mickey’s my best friend.”

I think of the way Mickey went redder than a fire hydrant the day we first met and I mistook her for Jo, how she always seems to have her eyes peeled for Savvy and anticipates whatever gloriously Type A thing Savvy is going to say before the thought has taken root in her brain.

I think of Mickey handing me Savvy’s shoes after Jo showed up, looking every bit as defeated in that moment as I felt over Leo.

“I dunno,” I say. “Watching the two of you, sometimes I get the sense that—”